


Hot Chocolate

by mc_writer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Winter Olympics AU, figure skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9087907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mc_writer/pseuds/mc_writer
Summary: Harry Styles is Britain's great hope for an Olympic Men's Figure Skating medal. Who may or may not be in love with Liam Payne, who is one half of the best figure skating pair in the world.The figure skating world is intense. Skaters need to deal with the pressure of judging, learning choreography,mastering difficult elements, not to mention having to handle the media circus.Sometimes you just need time alone to skate. And also, hot chocolate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This AU has been knocking around in my head. This hasn't been beta-ed. I'm just mucking about really. But I wanted to write something about ice skating and something a little bit Christmassy. Hopefully, it's a little something to keep the holiday spirit going.
> 
> Also, it's LIRRY. :)
> 
> This is probably not the last you'll see of this. Because I've got other characters that I want to explore. So, hope you'll stick around. :)

Dark ice.

That was what Harry called it anyway.

Dark ice was Harry’s favorite time to be in the rink: before it officially opened, before the crowds came in–the little girls doing their baby skating lessons, the older kids with the skate mums waiting anxiously by the boards, and all the people who just wanted to mess about on the ice.

Before all that happened, when the ice was dark and there were no people around – that was Harry Styles’ favorite time.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like skating in front of people. He was Harry Styles, the great English hope of men’s singles skating, widely touted to be the next Robin Cousins–he had to be comfortable skating in front of people. He was sure-footed and precise in his technique, capable of executing difficult jumps and making them look easy. But it was his presentation that impressed the critics and judges – and that won him the love of fans all over the world.

Harry Styles was so much more than just a jumper. He was an artist, a total package: he told a story on the ice, he drew you in, made you love him. He’d extend a hand to the audience and smile and you could hear sighs of adoration from every corner of the stadium.

One commentator had said of him, “Once he unleashes the dimples, you’re pretty much a goner. It’s very, very difficult to not like Harry Styles.”

He was a showman, yes, but also a consummate athlete. He was a coach’s dream: disciplined, consistent, obedient.

But sometimes, even if those times were few and far between: Harry Styles just wanted to muck about on the ice. He wanted to skate and not think about required elements. He didn’t want to think about which edge of the blade his jump should take off from. He didn’t want to have the music of his long program ringing in his ears every second.

Sometimes, Harry just wanted to  _skate_.

Soon after he won his first nationals, and after placing second in the World’s, Harry discovered that it was possible to sneak into the rink before it happened to do just that.

Skate.

To skate like no one was watching, to go round after round on the ice, not doing anything, no tricks, no skills, just skating to feel the wind on his face. And then, and only if he felt like it, to do the things he liked doing: spins, dizzying spins of all kinds; quick and complicated serpentine footwork, long spirals from one end of the rink to the other.

To skate and not jump.

That is, unless he absolutely wanted to.

Harry Styles’ Olympic year was just about to begin and there would be enough jumping to last him a lifetime.

So today, before the British Olympic figure skating team had to appear at this year’s holiday ice extravaganza, Harry fully intended to make sure he got in a good solid hour of skating just for the heck of it, with no thought of medals, or points, or scoring, or judges.

So he was somewhat peeved that on this morning, of all mornings, somebody should have beaten him to the rink for the dark ice.

Harry peered at the ice to see who it was and inhaled deeply when he recognized the lone figure on the ice.

Liam Payne.

Harry scanned the rink to see if Sophia Smith was around but saw no sign of anyone else.

Strange.

Liam was very rarely seen without Sophia. They were the darlings of British pairs figure skating…well, the darlings of the pairs skating world, to be accurate. An honest to goodness British figure skating pair that looked like they just might bring home the Olympic gold.

Hopes had never been so high for a British pair.

There had never been anyone quite like them.

Well, of course, there were the ice dancers, Jayne Torville and Christopher Dean. Their chemistry on the ice had been unmistakable, although it had never translated into a romance off the ice.

Smith and Payne were the real thing.

At least, that was the official word.

Their coach, Ben Winston, had gone old-school, Soviet Union approach to build the perfect figure skating pair. He figured that if it had worked for the Russians all those years, the strategy was sound. After all, it had produced the greats: Valova and Vasiliev, Gordeeva and Grinkov.

It was a matter of finding the right pair, a boy and girl who looked right together, who had the technique and the skills – and then making sure they spent all their time together.

First, they would be friends.

Then they would become skating partners.

Hormones would take care of the rest.

At least, that was the plan.

And so far, it seemed to have worked.

Sophia Smith had been training as a singles skater with Ben, but was willing to try out pairs if they found the right partner for her. Liam Payne was training as a speed skater and would probably have excelled had he stayed on the team. But Ben had seen him leaving the rink after training one day and the rest, as they say, was history.

“Those looks would have been wasted in speed skating,” Ben was fond of saying to interviewers who came in droves to get the story on Britain’s prince and princess of the ice.

On their first meeting on the ice, Ben had them skating around the rink hand in hand.

“Get to know each other a little,” he had told them.

By the end of the day, they were executing near perfect overhead lifts.

Ben had been ecstatic.

Media outlets gushed over Liam and Sophia, saying they looked like a fairy tale come to life: he with the chiseled jaw and strong build, she with the brilliant smile and the dreamy eyes.

Harry had to agree. Even this early in morning, and dressed only in a black hoodie and sweats, Liam looked every inch the romantic lead.

And having seen them skate up close, Harry could say, with complete honesty, that they did not just make a pretty picture. They were a formidable powerhouse in pairs skating.

Their programs were designed to make people swoon, with breathtaking lifts and gravity defying jumps. Ben gave them passionate music and romantic choreography and the media and figure skating fans everywhere lapped it up.

After all, everybody loved a love story.

And Sophia and Liam were a couple the public were only too willing to get behind.

Harry took several steps closer to the rink and quietly lowered himself into one of the seats to observe Liam skate.

He would be lying if he said he did not have a little crush on Liam Payne.

Who could blame him? Everybody had a crush on Liam Payne. Those who said they didn’t were fooling themselves.

It was the eyes, Harry thought, as he watched him on the ice. They were, by turns, intense and serious, then crinkled up in mirth. 

It might also have been his mouth.

Or his arms. Harry sighed. The arms were something else.

“Harry?”

Harry snapped out of his reverie to find Liam skating towards the boards, a warm smile on his face.

“I thought that was you! Happy Christmas, mate!” Liam folded his arms over the edge of the barrier and grinned happily at Harry, who pushed himself out of the chair and staggered on his skate guards towards Liam.  "How long have you been sitting out here?“

"Oh, about ten minutes, maybe?” Harry said, shaking his curls out of his eyes.

“Ten minutes? Aww, mate, were you waiting for the ice? I’m sorry, I just thought I’d come early, before the rink opened and let off some steam. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Harry tapped his temple and pointed towards Liam. “Great minds. I had the same idea. I come here, sometimes, in the early morning. Good way to get my head in the right space.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean. If I had to listen to Sophia tell me one more time that I need to catch her earlier coming down from the split triple twist, I think I would…” Liam mimed his head exploding. “It’s not for lack of trying, you know?”

Harry nodded in commiseration.

“You spent your holidays with Sophia? Must be tough.” Realizing how that might sound, Harry tried to backtrack. “I mean, it’s like you can’t get away…” Harry groaned and rubbed his face. “I’m not explaining myself very well.”

Liam chuckled and shook his head. “No worries, I know what you mean. Yeah, there’s a lot of shop talk at times. But, Soph’s all right. She just gets a little stressed. I mean, don’t we all though. It’s nice to have someone to share that with sometimes. Someone who knows what the pressure feels like. I’m lucky to have her.”

“I guess it’s easier for me,” Harry said, “as a singles skater, when I go home, my mum knows I don’t want to talk about skating.”

Liam gazed at Harry for a moment, and a wistful expression briefly crossed his face. “It must be nice.”

“It is. You should come over to ours sometimes. We’ve got a strictly no figure skating talk rule. And my mum makes amazing hot chocolate.”

Had Harry just invited Liam to his house for hot chocolate?

Where in the world had that come from?

But Liam was nodding and smiling the smile that made his cheeks puff out and Harry’s insides were melting into gooey puddle of love.

“Aww that sounds ace. I’m going to hold you to that, Styles.”

Harry smiled at him. “Anytime, Payno.”

“Did you want to get on the ice?” Liam asked suddenly. “I feel horrible stealing your ice time from you.”

“I wasn’t going to practice, I just wanted to have a skate around,” Harry said, bending down to slip the skate guards off his blades. “You can stay if you want. The rink’s big enough for the both of us.”

“Really? Thanks. If you don’t mind, I’ll stay a bit. I just don’t want to go back…” Liam’s voice trailed off.

Harry shook his head.  There were no explanations needed.

“Take all the time you need, Liam.” Harry adjusted his headscarf and took to the ice.  He began circling the rink, eyes on the ice. He was going to have to perform his exhibition skate later and he needed to start feeling his legs. But for now, he could just skate with no agenda. For now, he could just skate. And not think.

Except maybe about the boy in the black hoodie, lower lip caught between his teeth, as he practiced his spins.

Harry grinned to himself and shook his arms out as his body began to warm up.  He bent his knees a little more, trying to stroke the ice as quietly as possible, while working up to maximum speed. He closed his eyes, enjoying the cool air on his face.  When he opened his eyes, Liam was skating behind him, a smile on his face.

“It’s nice, innit?” Liam said, quietly.

Harry nodded.

“I so rarely skate alone. It’s weird,” Liam said.

Harry grinned at him, the dimple appearing in his cheek. “You’re not alone now, are you?”

Liam’s face broke into a smile. “Soph and I are the fastest pair on the ice these days. Think you could keep up with me?”

Harry shrugged and his dimple deepened.

“Let’s see then,” Liam murmured.

Liam reached an arm out and placed a gentle hand on the small of Harry’s back and gently pushed him forward.

Harry thought he might go up in flames.

Liam moved closer behind him, chest to Harry’s back.  They were silent, their synchronized breaths the only sound Harry could hear.

“This is fast enough to start jumping,” Harry murmured.

“Game on, Styles,” Liam’s breath was warm on Harry’s cheek. “Side by sides?”

“Triple axels?’

"I’ll see your triple axel and raise you a triple toe loop,” Liam countered.

Even though Liam couldn’t see him, Harry raised an eyebrow. That was his favorite combination of triple jumps.

“Bring it, Payno.”

Liam’s low chuckle behind him sent a thrill up Harry’s spine.

“Let’s go,” Liam said.

Harry mourned the loss of Liam’s palm against his back, but it was go time. Harry’s legs were warm underneath him and he knew he had this set of jumps. He was ready. He wanted to jump. No pressure, just the excitement of getting into the air. This is how he always wanted to feel.

He saw Liam out of the corner of his eye, giving him space to jump.

He really was the perfect partner.

They launched themselves into the air, three and a half tight revolutions, then reaching back to launch into the triple toe. They struck the ice at the same time, arms raised.

Liam whooped and circled back up to Liam, his eyes crinkled in a smile.

Harry lifted a hand to high-five Liam. “Full marks, Liam. Jumps like that, you could be a single skater.”

Liam laughed. “Heyyy. Pairs skaters jump triple combinations these days.”

They stood for a moment smiling at each other, slightly breathless, until Liam cast his eyes toward the ice and rubbed the back of his head.

“Thanks for the skate, Styles. That was fun. I’ll get out of your hair now.” He raised a hand in farewell and turned to skate towards the exit. He turned, but kept skating backward, “See you later?”

“See you later, Liam.”

Harry watched until Liam exited the rink, then took a deep breath.

Now, it was time to get to work.

***

Harry and his coach, James Corden, stood at rink side to watch Sophia and Liam skate their holiday exhibition. It was a crowd pleaser, set to “I’ll Be Home for Christmas”, it had all the elements of a perfect pair skate: a big split triple twist (Harry was gratified to see that Liam caught her early  and hoped Sophia would be satisfied), a giant throw triple salchow, an overhead lasso lift that traveled nearly from one end of the rink to the other, and, Harry grinned when he saw it, a side by side pair of triple jumps–an axel and a toe loop–that was flawless, and a dizzying final combination spin.

Harry knew Ben made Liam and Sophia watch videos of Russian skaters in an effort to try to get them to skate as quietly as the best Russian pairs. And it was one of the details that had commentators waxing rhapsodic about Liam and Sophia. Liam didn’t just put her on the ice; he placed her on the ice, as gently as you would put down a crystal vase.

It was very special and Harry was a little bit in love with it.

Then, their trademark: when they took their bow, they faced each other for a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes, and then Liam lifted her hands and gently kissed first one then the other.

It was the moment cameramen waited for and that drove fans into a frenzy.

“They’re really something, aren’t they?” James said, thoughtfully.

Harry nodded.

“They’re both very strong individual skaters,” James said. “I would have loved to have gotten my hands on Liam as a solo skater. I might have had two winners eh,” he said, nudging Harry with an elbow. “But, maybe Ben had the right idea. There’s something about them together. Lucky break.”

By this time, Liam and Sophia were at the boards, breathless and flushed. James Corden congratulated them.

“Amazing performance,” James said.

“It was so good, you two,” Harry said, “And, that side by side triple combination, wow.” 

Sophia smiled and let out a relieved chuckle. “You’ve got Li to thank for that. It was just supposed to be a triple-double, but he got it into his head that we should do side by side triples. Don’t ask me why we’re doing triple triple combinations in an exhibition…”

Harry met Liam’s eyes and they shared a small, secret smile.

“Good call, Liam.”

“Have it on good authority that that’s a winning combination,” Liam’s voice was quiet, but the expression on his face spoke volumes.

The loudspeaker announced Harry’s name, but it was swallowed up by the crowd’s cheers.

“That’s me,” Harry said. “Off I go then.”

Liam called out after him. “Don’t think! Just skate.”

Liam’s last words settled into Harry’s bones as he assumed his first pose on the ice, waiting for his music, a jazzy “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” that opened up with a corker of a quadruple axel.

_Like this morning._

Liam hadn’t said it, but Harry finished the thought in his head anyway.

And if there was a little extra lift to his jumps today, well, that didn’t have anything to do with a certain brown-eyed boy who was waiting by the boards.

Not really.

That evening, the exhibition over, Harry returned home, ready to put his feet up for a much-deserved break. The exhibition skate was the last in the series of required appearances for the team. Now, they got a blessed week of rest. There would be workouts and training, of course, but less than usual, and thankfully, no appearances.

“Mum?” Harry called from the sofa. “Is there any hot chocolate left?”

Anne poked her head out of the kitchen. “Yes, there is. Would you like some cake or cookies to go with it?”

“That sounds amazing, mum, thanks.”

He turned on the telly and began flipping channels. He had decided on Downtown Abbey reruns when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” he said, getting up.

He opened the door to find Liam Payne standing on his doorstep, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was. And you probably weren’t serious about the offer, but I couldn’t help thinking…about…your mum’s hot chocolate.”

Harry smiled broadly and opened the door to let Liam through.

“Mum! Make that two hot chocolates please!"

Harry shut the door and gestured to the sofa. "Make yourself comfortable. Oh, let me take your coat."

Liam shrugged off his coat, rubbed his hands together to warm them and then lowered himself onto the sofa. He rlooked up at Harry, sheepish.

"I'm so sorry. I was just...driving around. And, somehow found myself here."

"Surprised you still remember where I live," Harry remarked.

"We used to have team meetings here, remember?" Liam said, his expression brightening. "All of us as a group. Talking about our programs and stuff." He paused and frowned. "We don't do team meetings anymore."

"Yeah," Harry said, shaking his head. "Now it's every man for himself! Or pair for themselves," he chuckled.

"I guess that's why I haven't been seeing you around much. Except for on the ice, but we're all usually too busy..." Liam's voice trailed off and he jumped to his feet when he noticed Anne coming in with the tray.

"Oh, what a gentleman!" Anne laughed. "Sit down, Liam! You deserve to sit back and put your feet up. That's all Harry's been doing since he got home."

"Mum," Harry said, with a warning tone in his voice.

"Harry said you made the most amazing hot chocolate. I had to come and see for myself," Liam said, with a smile, settling back down on the sofa.

"Well, I hope you like it. I'll be in my room, if you need anything else, Harry," she said, reaching a hand out to ruffle Harry's curls.

Liam watched Anne leave the room then turned to Harry and lifted his mug to him in a toast. "Your mum is an angel."

Harry grinned. "No arguments here."

Liam took a sip of hot chocolate and closed his eyes, a peaceful look on his face. Harry pressed his lips together to prevent himself from laughing out loud. Slowly, Liam blinked his eyes open and smiled beatifically at Harry. "You weren't kidding mate. This is like," Liam struggled for words and finally decided on, "a hug in a cup."

Harry doubled over with laughter. 

"What's so funny about that? It's really good hot chocolate!"

Harry shook his head as he gasped for breath and waved Liam away from him. "Oh my god. I never pegged you as having a flair for the dramatic, Payne."

Harry inhaled sharply when Liam took his wrist and gently tugged at it to make Harry face him. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Harry," he said with a small smile.

 

Harry bit his lip. "Is that so, Liam."

Liam nodded, his expression grave. "It is. Very so."

Harry laughed again and shook his head. "So. Tell me something I don't know."

Liam narrowed his eyes as he thought of a random, little-known fact about himself.  Harry tried not to focus on the fact that Liam's hand was still on his wrist, his thumb gently rubbing circles on the back of his hand.

"My nickname, among the lads I grew up with is..."

"Wolfie," Harry supplied, with a grin. "Come on, Li. That's baby stuff, stuff that gets printed in teen girl magazines!"

Liam shot him a quizzical grin. "And you know this because?"

"Because I'm a figure skater who has friends on the ladies' team!" Harry retorted. "If you're not going to bring your A game, well, we should just call this off."  
  
"Wait! Wait, I was just getting started," Liam exclaimed. "Ok. My mum bought a cardboard standee thing of me? They had it up at some sporting goods store after Sophia and I won the Nationals. She somehow thought it was a good idea to put it in my bedroom. I tell you, when I got home from World's? I forgot it was there. Turned on the light when I got home and screamed bloody murder. Woke the whole house up."

Harry's shoulders shook with laughter. "That's a good one. You should tell the teen magazines that story next."

Liam smiled, then his face grew serious. "How about something I can't tell the magazines?"

Harry stilled. He sensed a sudden shift in the room, noticed how Liam's gaze no longer met his eyes.

"I'm scared. Sometimes, I'm scared."

Harry twisted his wrist out of Liam's grasp and slipped his hand to it met Liam's, palm-to-palm. "Of skating?"

"Of losing." Liam's voice cracked and Harry winced at the sound.

"Mate, we're all scared of that."

"But," Liam, struggled to get the words out, "you're a singles skater. If you fuck it up, you've got no one to blame but yourself, yeah?" Liam was looking at Harry now, willing him to understand.

"Yeah. Like you said. I'm alone on the ice."

"If I mess up, I don't just ruin my chances. I ruin Sophia's too." Liam murmured. "I could handle it. Losing? If it were just me. But, being responsible for Soph, too?" Liam shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut. "Like, I want to win. So much."

Harry nodded, gripped Liam's hand even tighter. They all wanted to win.

"But, I almost want it more for Sophia. She could have been a singles skater, you know?" Liam looked up at Harry. "I know her dad thinks maybe she should have stayed a singles skater. I don't think I could handle it if I ruined her chances. Maybe I'm just holding her back."

Harry leaned forward and gathered Liam into his arms, around the strong shoulders upon which Britain's pairs figure skating medal hopes rested, only to find they were not as broad as they appeared.

"She's lucky to have you. She couldn't have found a better partner," Harry murmured against Liam's cheek.

Liam burrowed his face into the crook of Harry's neck and gripped Harry's jumper with desperate hands. 

They sat like that for a while, Harry gently smoothing his palm over Liam's back, the way he liked his mum to do when he'd had a particularly rough day on the ice. Liam stirred and pulled away, rubbing a hand over his face. 

"I'm so sorry," he said, awkwardly.

Harry shushed him. "Don't. I'm glad you told me."

Liam gave him a tired smile and picked up his hot chocolate. 

"It's gone cold now," Harry warned.

""We're used to everything on ice, aren't we?" Liam grinned.

"Oh, that was truly horrible. Was that even supposed to be a joke?" Harry made a face, but reached for his mug as well.

Harry didn't quite know what he had done to deserve a night of hot--well, lukewarm--chocolate with a warm and wonderful boy beside him.

But, whatever it was he, he was glad of it. 

"Hot chocolate makes everything better, doesn't it?" Liam said.

Harry grinned and reached out to rub the chocolate moustache off Liam's upper lip.

It probably did.

Having Liam's leg hooked over his as they watched Downton Abbey was pretty ace, even without the hot chocolate.

But, he wasn't about to say that out loud.

 

 


End file.
